


kept you from anything

by westhouse



Category: Fallout 4
Genre: Atticusverse, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-26
Updated: 2018-11-26
Packaged: 2019-08-29 15:40:48
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16746796
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/westhouse/pseuds/westhouse
Summary: Olden days Atticus drivel feat. Nick and Hancock being pining fools and Atticus knowing nothing. for @cabwaylingo





	kept you from anything

**Author's Note:**

> sorry for how short this is and how NONangsty it is but im still getting a feel for these kids

“Pretty sure you’re givin’ Nicky some kind of fit,” Hancock says, trying desperately to frown and instead making a crooked kind of smile. Atticus snaps at his fingers like a wild dog as he tries to clean the cut on their lip, and he pokes them in the cheek gently. “Hey, it’s not funny. He thinks you’re gonna get yourself killed.”

“Please,” Atticus barks out, more laugh than speech. “I can’t die.” It’s disturbing how much they seem to believe that, and more disturbing how Hancock finds it kind of attractive—okay, he’s no coward,  _ really _ attractive. It’s the same reason he takes it upon himself to clean them up when they could do it themselves, and the same reason Valentine’s pacing in the other room all pent-up and stiff. This is  _ their _ Atticus… though that’s funny, as if anyone could contain them.

He huffs and grumbles, “Y’can definitely die, Atty,” with extra emphasis on the nickname to piss them off. By the furrowed brow, it works. They stare at him with those blue-violet puppydog eyes and he is forced to look away, instead shoving his rag into the bowl of water next to him and reaching up to tilt their head away. “Let me look at this.”

Atticus’ ash blonde curls are completely ruined, to his dismay, on one side matted against the side of their head, thick with blood. It puts the rest of their face into stark and upsetting contrast. Under his breath he swears, wondering at the severity of the wound beneath. They watch the ground and chew their lip, which will probably be bleeding again soon enough. “That bad?” comes the still nearly jovial question. He grunts noncommittally and rests a hand to their jaw as he gently swipes the wet rag over the damaged area. They don’t wince, which is a good sign—but then, when has Atticus  _ ever _ telegraphed their pain?

He can’t find enough words for conversation as he continues cleaning them up, and in response to the silence they anxiously bounce their leg. Maybe they want to say something, and equal parts of him hope that they say it and hope they don’t. It takes until he’s realising the source of the blood was only a cut, nothing too deep, that he sighs and says, “I’m not mad at you, kid.”

“Didn’t ask if you were,” replies Atticus shortly. Their leg continues to bounce.

The blood won’t wash out fully until they get the chance to bathe, but it’s as close as he’s going to get it. It’s still uncomfortable to look at, and he has never been a fan of head wounds. He leans in and kisses their cheek, feeling all vitriol in him fall short.

Unfortunately, Valentine doesn’t appear to feel the same way. He finally steps back into the office— _ his _ office, which he’s let them occupy, the sap—and asks, “You okay, Atticus?” with thinly veiled exasperation. He has this issue where he gets angry when he gets worried, perhaps a remnant of the actual Nick’s personality. Hancock always wonders if that’s why the guy had such a fucked up relationship. It’s not polite to ask, though.

“M’fine,” Atticus says, crossing their legs, having taken the apology well and perked up again. “Hancock gave me a  _ kiss _ .” Of course. No secrets in this place, he thinks, burying his face in his hands.

Nick asks, “He what?” at the same minute Hancock pipes up, “On the cheek!” and Atticus begins cackling. They’re spouting, “Nick, look at your face! On the cheek, ya prude. What, are you jealous?”

“I’m not jealous! It’s just inappropriate!”

For the next six weeks, Atticus doesn’t let it go.


End file.
